An ode to orchestra teachers

I don’t want to sound like I never appreciated how hard my orchestra directors were working when I was growing up, but honestly, I never appreciated how hard my orchestra directors were working. In honor of my dabbling in teaching middle schoolers, and the teachers who have taught me and supported me up to this point, a short poem:

An ode to orchestra teachers

For every fine tuner wound too tight

For every popped E-string

For the bow grips that really haven’t earned that title

For every finger tape applied, and each dynamic pointed out

For flat fourth fingers and missed sharps

For low elbows, high elbows, stiff elbows

For dealing with unsubtle sighs, unexpected tears, uncontrollable giggling

For knowing how to balance challenge and frustration

For telling everyone to wear black socks

For never giving up on a wannabe violist who couldn’t read music, play at the frog, or count

For showing me the joy of making music with friends

Thank you.